AUSXIP - Xenaverse: In Memory

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P.D. was always organized and prepared for "what ifs" and death was no exception. Prior to having her brain tumor surgery last August, P.D. ensured her house was in order. She wrote a message we were to share with her virtual family should she not survive the surgery. We feel it appropriate to share the message now with each of you. Priscilla and I keep saying thank you and it seems so inadequate. Know that it comes from our hearts and you will forever be P.D.'s heroes.

Sincerely, Jeremy and Priscilla Lamberth

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

In My Life
I've seen hatred and fear.
Prejudice and anger hurled at those I loved caused heartache and pain.
The one that held my heart was the victim of abuse and molestation.
I've known hunger.
I've known illness
I've known death.
I've known anger.

In my life
I found love and courage.
I discovered some things are worth the price of marching to a different drummer.
Gentleness and kindness, giving and caring made my world a better place and
healed wounds long since past.
I've known love.
I've known friendship.
I've known laughter. I danced.
I've seen the glory of new birth and new awakenings.
I've been blessed with living each day.
I've known joy.

In my life
I've traveled many roads and discovered things along the way.
I found despite everything life hurls at you, there's always hope.
I've found everyone wants a new day filled with peace and love and happiness.
I've learned to balance the price you pay with the prize you win in living each day.
I learned there are no barriers except the ones we place on our hearts and spirits.
I've learned a little faith in yourself, humanity and the human spirit can make impossible things plausible.
I've known love.
I've known friendship.

In my life
I learned how a heart breaks and dreams shatter.
I learned what it's like to be alone.
I learned what it's like to open your heart, open yourself to vanquish the loneliness.
I learned how you can go on, face a new road, and start the journey again.
I've learned that change confounds and delights and makes the journey full of surprises.
I've known love.
I've known friendship

In my life
I discovered that we never make the journey alone, no matter how hard
we try to push others away, there's always some thing or some one we meet along the way.
I've learned that the greatest thing any one can do is give themselves.
I've learned you have to live your life and follow your heart and your dreams.
I've learned that you can always get up again as long as you see the destination and not the ruts in the road.
I've known love.
I've known friendship

In my life My Evie found a new adventure.
One filled with love and laughter and fun.
She found the internet and friends galore.
My heart stopped when her life was snatched away and darkness came crashing round.
I saw the abyss and I saw a way around it by taking people's hand and letting them in again.
I found friendship. I found laughter. I found joy. I found people who cared.
I found people who made me care. I found people who made me think.
I found the most precious gift is giving yourself and accepting and
cherishing the gift of friendship others give you.
I discovered the virtual family I came to know and love through Evie
came to know and love me.
I found love.
I found friendship.
I found acceptance.

In my life
Another journey has begun. One where I must go alone.
Death called and yet another new path needs discovering.
I finished the journey here on earth and start the next one wherever that may lead.
I know I won't be alone.
I know each of you will be with me in thought and spirit.
I knew love.
I knew friendship.
I knew what it was like to be part of a whole, part of humanity,
part of someone else's heart and dreams.

In your lives
May you know love.
May you know friendship.
May you know wonder and joy.
May your journey be filled with remarkable people,
remarkable beauty, and remarkable friends, just as mine was.
May you see the ocean, smell the flowers, laugh, dance,
make sand castles and keep the child inside.
May you celebrate each day and live each moment.
May you be. Just be.

It's time to start down the new path.
Thank you for touching my heart and touching my spirit.

bless you,
P.D. Wonder

Below are P.D's & Jeremy's wishes for those of you who
want to remember her in a more tangible way.
Thanks,
Dem

Before P.D.'s initial surgery in August we discussed "what if's" and her personal wishes. Her greatest desire was for people to give themselves in little ways that make a difference.

P.D. and my Mom believed strongly in volunteerism. In lieu of flowers or cards, if people could find time to give of themselves, P.D.'s memory would be honored. Areas she expressed particular interest in were the library reading programs, mentoring, adopt a grandparent program, meals on wheels, local clothing and food drives, round robin calling circles where you spend an hour a week calling house bound people, cleaning up a beach, a park, or helping a neighbor.

I recognize this is not a traditional request and many people will not be able to comply. A.B.T.A. is a fine organization and provides a great deal of educational, practical and counseling support. It is a worthwhile cause.

I'm sure it would be fine with P.D. if people wanted to donate to that or other Brain Tumor organizations. I also know she cared about children. Causes that support the health and well being of children nationally or world wide would garner a smile. As for flowers or cards. Donating themselves or their money to a worthy cause is preferred. If someone still wants to send a card, it can be addressed to the Folsom PO Box. It's good through the end of the year and we will put a mail forward request on it.

To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.

P.D. Wonder succeeded more than most of us ever dream and hope to achieve. She has left behind a whole world of people whose lives are better because she touched us, encouraged us, and served as a beacon for us. I grieve her passing, for no longer will we have herlaughter to lighten our lives. I bless the kindness of the gods, for she has passed on to whatever is next in quiet peace, rather than more pain. I honor her memory in my heart, for the lessons she taught will stay with me for the rest of my life.

I wanted to share a special moment with you. I do so primarily because it is such a wonderful commentary on today's children and gives me great hope for the future.

Normally, I spend my Sunday afternoons as a volunteer reader for our reading center. Two hours I would read things like Dr. Seuss to the 4 - 6 year olds. Then, the next two hours would be spent with the 7 - 9 year olds. It's fun and enlightening. I highly recommend it to anyone. Most local libraries sponsor reading circles.

Anyway, since Evie's death, I have been bypassing the reading circles. Instead, I go to her grave and fill her in on what's been happening, change the flowers, listen to the bird song, that kind of thing. It helps me center and feel connected.

The librarian, a long time friend of both Evie and I surprised me yesterday. She knocked on my door and asked if I would mind some company on my journey to the cemetery. She said she had some flowers she wanted to put on the grave. Not really knowing what to say or how to get out of it, I simply said okay. She said she'd drive.

When we arrived there were several cars there. I assumed it was for a funeral or grave side service. Then, I realized that all the people were by Evie's grave. All the "people" were the kids from my reading circle, their brothers and sisters, and some of their parents.

It seems they were "sad" about Evie and "sad" for me. They missed me at the reading circle. They felt bad, and wanted to "do something" and to "help me" be happy again. According to my friend, two weeks ago they started planning a surprise. My friend talked to their parents, and last weeks session involved the preparation for yesterday's surprise.

As only children can do, with an honest and open compassion, each child proceeded to read a note or thought they had written, or share a drawing they had made. They stepped out one by one, said their piece, walked up to me and handed me their paper and a box of sparklers. My friend had brought a basket for me to put everything in. Some giggled, some were shy, some hugged me, while others approached only by the courage of holding their parent's hand. When the last one had shared their "gifts", my friend said that the kids wanted to make sure that I never ran out of "heart sparklers", warm memories or smiles. Then they proceeded to light a sparkler.

There we were, 20 or 30 people, standing around the grave, burning sparklers in hand, in broad daylight, singing America the Beautiful (the only song all the kids knew). I cried like a baby. Some of them cried too.

So many times we hear bad news or wonder about kids these days. The media is focused on the drugs, the sex, the violence, or seeming lack of direction. Yet here, in a tiny community, a bunch of young children knew someone was hurting. They cared enough to give their time and energy to reach out and help. Little kids who giggle when your tongue gets twisted reading funny stories, or look at you in awe when a hero bigger than life comes in and saves the day. Children who contemplate the seriousness of peanut butter on the wrong bread, or wonder why the sky is blue. Children who struggle to tie their shoes or read aloud.

No, with kids like this, the future is bright and filled with possibilities. It will be filled with love and compassion and heart sparklers. Thanks for letting me ramble and share. Thank each and everyone of you for your continued support. --

My name's Priscilla Lamberth. P.D.. was my mom-in-law. Technically some folks would say step mom-in-law but there was no step 'bout it if ya get my drift.

We got married in august 2000. Jeremy's mom died the year before. P.D. died almost a year later.

P.D. visited evie's memorial page all the time. fact is, Jeremy and me copied the stuff off the tribute page and from the guest book and put it in a special leather bound binder.

See, we think our kids need to know somethin' 'bout their grandmothers. We can show 'em pictures and tell 'em stories. We can share memories and all, but we want 'em to have more than just our stuff ya know? We'd like 'em to see how other folks felt 'bout 'em and how they touched people's lives. Thanks to their virtual family, we got a lot of nice memories to share. Thank you for the tributes and signin' the guest book. P.D. was right when she said you're the best!

Anyways, Jeremy and me aren't the best at expressin' ourselves, so here's a poem that says some of what's inside.

You taught us about love.
You taught us about caring.
You taught us about courage.
You taught us about faith.
You taught us about happiness.
You taught us about sorrow.

P.D., you were the wind beneath our wings. we know without your love and support we might not have wound up together. you saw the love and helped it along. you taught us how to fly and set us free. we love you and you'll always be part of us. take care of mom okay? slow dance one for us.

As one of P.D.'s online emailers, I'd like this included in the public space dedicated to the remarkable P.D. From reading other tributes from the memorial site, I am beginning to get the picture that she was a force of nature. And how blessed we all were to touch her life.

"P.D. was working on regaining her language skills through writing email, and she used the simplest spelling for words."

We both worked for a medium sized firm. I met Evie through work related social gatherings. We didn't interact outside of work or work related gatherings.

My son suffered severe brain trauma and wasn't expected to "make it through the night." My wife suffered neck and spinal cord injuries and needed to be transferred to a special trauma center. Her prognosis was uncertain. The doctor didn't know if she'd survive the trip or the surgery she needed to stay alive. I was torn in half. Evie drove me to the trauma center.

P.D. stayed with my son. He passed away early the next morning. He never woke up. The nurse told me P.D. stayed with him throughout the night, holding his hand, talking to him, singing to him. She didn't leave his side.

My wife survived. She is a paraplegic. She spent 8 weeks in the hospital and another 15 months in a convalescent center recovering. P.D. and Evie visited her every day in the hospital. Evie always brought food for me to take home.

When something like this happens, people are there at the beginning, then move on after the danger is past. P.D. and Evie were there the entire time. They visited her twice a week. Evie, the social butterfly regaled her with stories and gossip. P.D. stayed in the background as was her custom.

P.D. observed my wife's discomfort when it came to her weekly bath and hair washing. P.D. learned how to provide the service required. Every Saturday, she bathed my wife and washed her hair. Every Saturday for over a year P.D. gave my wife her dignity back by doing this simple act.

When it all began, they didn't know me. They didn't know my wife. We were employer and employee. I asked P.D. why she did it. She said why not?

We became good friends. I watched them as the years went by. I watched Evie flit about. Evie was charming and full of life. She loved people. P.D. was quiet and reserved, always staying in the background, yet she was always there.

If someone was sick or needed help, P.D. was there. If someone needed a friend to talk to, P.D. listened. She didn't like the lime light. Accolades and gratitude were shrugged off. She wasn't flashy. She did because she could. P.D. was quiet, gentle, and sincere. Her presence gave you strength.

Now, I do because I can. If someone says why, I say why not? I hope I do it with as much grace and dignity and love as she did.

I first got to know P.D. because of her comments about stories and poems I had written. She would always give encouragement and gently provide insight about what worked and what didn't. Later, when Evie died, I was impressed by P.D.'s ability to remain kind and to think of others when her own heart was broken. I couldn't believe it when I learned that her wonderful spirit was again being challenged, that she had a brain tumor and had to undergo surgery that would rob her of much of her ability to communicate. As anyone who corresponded with P.D. after her surgery can testify, P.D. remained herself, retaining her intelligence and humor and kindness, her concern for others, even while struggling to walk and talk and write. When circumstances continued to deal her blows, and depression threatened to sap her spirit, P.D. would, with the help of her friends and support people, pull herself up and continue to plan. She was a woman with a mission, no, missions, and none was more important than letting her and Evie's son Jeremy know how loved he was.

P.D. had a friend named Carrie, a little girl who had had brain surgery and who faced many of the challenges P.D. was dealing with. P.D. wrote a story and asked me to edit it. Then she and her mother made the story into a book and decorated it with pictures cut from magazines. Carrie passed away before P.D. P.D. said that Carrie was with Evie. I like to think that now all three of them are together. This from an old agnostic like me. Such was the power of P.D. *S*

Anyway, I would like to share P.D.'s story. And it IS P.D.'s story, not mine. See, P.D.? I finally got the last word on this!

Once upon a time, there was an orchard. This orchard had lots of big trees that gave lots of fruit. Folks came from all around to get fruit. Mothers got fruit. Daddies got fruit. Little children got fruit.

All the trees in the orchard were big and strong except for one little tree. This little tree was in the back of the orchard. It was between the house and the other trees. It didn't get lots of sun or lots of water. The little tree didn't get lots of folks coming around because they couldn't see it hidden behind the other trees.

The little tree was not like the big trees. It was scared and alone. The little tree was kind of like the seasons and kind of like you and me.

One season it got cold and dark outside. That season was winter. There was fog, and the little tree couldn't see the sun. The fog went away, but the sky stayed gray. All the little tree could see beneath the gray sky were the big trees all around. When everything around was cold and gray, the little tree bent down and felt smaller still.

The cold season was like after BT. We wake up, and it is dark and cold. We are not sure what is in our heads. Sometimes we see nothing but fog and can't understand. Sometimes the fog clears, but then everything is gray. We understand, but not like others. Words make no sense, and we feel sad because we feel different. It is hard to stand tall.

Another season came. That season was spring. Sometimes there was sun all day. Sometimes there was wind and rain. The big trees in the orchard stood tall. They started to bloom. The branches were full of white flowers. The flowers smelled good. The little tree started to stand straight. She wanted to bloom, but her branches were not big. They were not big enough or strong enough to hold a lot of white flowers. But the little tree tried very hard, and her little white blooms smelled very sweet.

The little tree's bloom was like when we first say a word. It was like when we take a step. It was like when we smile or know what is inside our heads. We are not big and strong. We don't talk and walk like others. But we still have thoughts and words. We stand and bloom and enjoy the sweet smells.

A new season came. This was summer. There was more sun, and the bloom turned to fruit. The big trees had lots of fruit, so much fruit their strong branches bent under it. Their fruit grew big and red. Folks came around and saw the fruit. They picked and tasted it. They said the fruit was very good. The little tree's blooms became fruit, too. But it did not have lots of fruit. Its branches were not strong. It did not see enough sun so its fruit grew slowly. But the little tree had some small, red fruit. It was pretty fruit. The little tree wished that someone would come and see its fruit. It wished that someone would pick its fruit and say that it was good.

The little tree's fruit grew kind of like our thoughts and words and first steps. We try to think and talk and walk. We can't do a lot, but we try. We can be kind of scared because we aren't like others. We aren't sure folks will come around. We don't know if they will want to see us and talk with us and be with us. It makes us mad sometimes and sad sometimes. Most of the time we are scared because we are not like the rest. We are not sure what to do or how to do it.

The summer ended, and fall began. The last of the big, red fruit was being picked from the big trees. Some children walked around the house. They walked through all the big trees. They saw the fine little tree. They saw its fruit, which was close to the little tree, not far out on its branches. The children couldn't reach the fruit on the big trees, but they could reach the fruit on the little tree. They picked some and tasted it. It was sweet and good. They thought it was the best fruit in the orchard because they had taken the time to find it.

The little tree's fruit was kind of like us when we walk and talk and laugh and be. We are not big or strong. We don't have lots of words or run or ride bikes. But we have some words, and we laugh, and we offer lots to the ones who see us. We have hearts, and we care.

It may take a long time for folks to see us. It may take a long time for folks to understand us. We may be hard to find, but nothing is better. Not even the big trees have better fruit, because our fruit is made of the same love and care and blessings as theirs. Folks who want good fruit take time to look and see and find.

Folks who want good friends take time to look and see and know what is inside. They don't worry about how big or strong we are or how we talk. They see us and know that nobody is better.

Carrie, friends like that don't worry about you being like others. They don't care if you don't walk or talk well or don't ride a bike or do some other things. They don't care about what you don't do.

They care about you. They know that you are a blessing just like the little tree's sweet, red fruit. Like the tree's fruit, you are sweeter and better because you work and love and care. Like the little tree, you'll keep growing and getting stronger through every season.